Echo
by syren pan
Summary: Response to LJ's Dragon Age Kink Meme. Prompt asked for 'Fenris sees Anders with his hair down for the first time.' I took liberties and added a bit of angst in form of the sight being a memory trigger for Fenris. Fenders and mentioning of Leto/OC
1. Chapter 1

Dragon Age (c) Bioware. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

><p>The last raider's head landed in the sand with a muffled thud right in front of Anders' feet.<p>

The empty eyes looked up at him in perpetual surprise. Anders gave him a wink while slinging his staff back over his shoulder, 'Never taunt a mage, mate.'

He looked around to see whether any of his companions needed healing, absent-mindedly brushing his hand through his locks. The hair band must have snapped during the battle.

Anders hated it when his hair got in the way of things but he couldn't bring himself to cut it off either. A rueful smile crossed the mage's features as he fished for a spare piece of string that he could use to get his bangs under control. His first lover at Kinloch Hold had told him that it had been his long, blond hair that they had first noticed about him and it had sort of stuck. No matter how much he had changed since Justice, whatever remained of the original man from the Anderfels had kept that little bit of vanity.

He stopped digging through his pockets when he got a prickly feeling in the back of his neck, the kind you got when someone was watching you.

Anders head snapped up. Sylvan green met amber when their eyes locked.

xXx

The raiders had been nothing but a nuisance on this rather boring excursion to the Wounded Coast. Hawke had been tasked to look for a woman allegedly taken by slavers which was why Fenris had agreed to tag along despite the fact that they had brought the abomination as well. So far they had found nothing but Elfroot and raiders intent on committing suicide.

The battle ended before it had really begun. Hawke and Isabela had attacked from stealth while the cursed mage had fireballed their attackers drawing attention to him which left Fenris with the unthankful task of having to defend the healer.

Sometimes the warrior entertained thoughts of coming just a tad too late to the abomination's rescue, and good riddance but he knew he never would. The man may be a whiny, possessed, infuriating _mage_ but even Fenris had to acknowledge that Anders had his uses – for now.

Which brought the elf to the point where he looked around to check on said mage to make sure he could continue to be useful.

Everything stopped.

Fenris had never seen Anders with his hair down. Stunned, the elf tried to gather his thoughts and failed horribly. All he could do was stand there, warm sand between his toes, and stare at the mage as if he had never seen him before.

He looked ...something. Different. Sunlight reflected in the various shades of gold, the strong jaw tempered by unruly bangs drawing attention to pouty lips...

_A smile. Laughter. Sunshine in red-gold hair. Someone called his name. Soft lips on his. Kissing, someone was kissing him._

'What are you looking at?'

The mage's irritated voice dragged Fenris back to the present. _Venhedis_! He noticed that he had been staring at the other man for an insanely long time.

'We should move on.' Fenris said gruffly and quickly turned away to find Hawke before the situation could get any more awkward. Had it been a memory? No, later. He would think about it later.


	2. Chapter 2

Anders extinguished the lantern's flame for the day and locked the clinic door behind him. His back slumped against the old wood. Tired, he untied his hair band and fisted his bangs, dragging the strands through his fingers in front of his face. He chuckled at the realisation that he had been distracted all day to the point where he had almost fused a cut-purse's broken fingers together instead of just mending the bones.

And all because his thoughts kept wondering to green eyes, staring at him with a look Anders hadn't seen in years, at least not openly directed at him and had never thought he would see on that particular face: desire.

It had reminded Anders of the strange incident from a few weeks ago when they had been looking for slavers on the Wounded Coast and he had caught Fenris staring at him then with something other than disgust in his eyes. Actually, he had all but forgotten about it until yesterday.

xXx

_The previous day _

'The Coterie hasn't bothered me lately. You don't have anything to do with this by any chance?' Anders asked his friend with a fond smirk, already knowing the answer.

Why Varric kept sticking his neck out for him, the mage couldn't say but he was grateful for the other man's easy company and honest friendship. Maker knew the ranks of his allies were dwindling with every passing day except for the dwarf and the voice in the back of his head that kept telling him it didn't matter because Justice was forever by his side.

'Blondie, now why would I do that?' Varric's voice dragged Anders back from the edge of depression he kept wandering these days. 'I've enough trouble as it is. ...oh, hello Hawke. Fenris.' Varric greeted the newcomers.

The Champion of Kirkwall strode into the dwarf's private room as if she owned the place with the broody elf in tow.

'I see you've got company. I'll see you later.' Anders said and made to leave. He had no desire to hang around because the odds were in favour of him ending up going some place with darkspawn and dragons or worse, Fenris.

'No stay. I think I could use you,' Hawke grabbed his biceps through his coat as he tried to brush past. He gave her an irritated look. 'I mean, use your skills,' she corrected hastily and let him go with a gentle shove towards one of the empty chairs.

For a second he considered leaving anyway but he knew that at this stage only his so called "friendship" with the Champion kept the Templars from his doorstep. He dropped into the seat with a heavy sigh, cradling his head into the palm of his hand, undoubtedly looking every bit like a man resigned to his fate. Hawke had the audacity to give him a winning grin before she turned her attention to Varric.

Anders lost interest in their conversation after five minutes and let his eyes wander around the room. Varric had an old fashion taste in furniture that belied his supposed non-attachment to his dwarven heritage. The mage wondered idly whether his friend was aware of it or not.

Out of the corner of his eye Anders noticed a shadow briefly blocking out the light from the lantern from across the room. Obviously Fenris had given up on standing around and decided to sit on the other side of the table. The mage spared him a brief look, the elf's attention apparently reserved for Hawke which suited Anders just fine. Better ignored than scorned. After all Fenris made no secret of his hatred of all things magic related in general and Anders in particular.

Although they had known each other for years, the mage still felt anger and disappointment bubble up whenever he saw the elf. Fenris should have understood, should have cared if an ex-slave couldn't understand what Anders and Justice were trying to achieve how was there any hope so-called normal people would. It was useless to dwell on the point but it was just so Maker forsaken frustrating! Anders rubbed his hands over his face in a futile attempt to rid himself of the unwelcome feeling.

With another heavy sigh he slid his fingers over his head and untied his hair causing blond bangs to fall into his face. He snapped his head back to gather the strands with both hands when he suddenly noticed that Fenris was staring at him. Anders head was still slightly tilted back, so he had to peek at the other man down his nose. The elf didn't seem to notice.

Fenris looked as if he was entranced, looking at the blond but not quite looking at him directly. Slowly Anders brought his head forward, releasing his hair from his fingers as he did so, spreading his hands in front of him on the table. If anything the elf's eyes grew wider as the mage's hair fanned around his face. To his utter surprise, Anders' cock jumped when Fenris unconsciously licked his lips.

Anders didn't dare move lest he would break whatever, for want of a better word, spell had come over the elf. It suddenly reminded him of what had happened on that day when they had fought on the Wounded Coast. Fenris had looked at him then as well when he had tried to gather...his hair. Was that it?

'What do you think, Blondie?' Varric's voice startled Anders so much he gave an involuntary yelp of surprise. He jerked his gaze away from Fenris but not before he saw realization of what had happened crawl over the elf's features together with a crimson blush that extended to the tip of his ears.

'You feeling all right?' Hawke asked with an irritated frown on her face. Apparently neither she nor Varric had noticed anything out of the ordinary.

'Yes, fine,' Anders snapped back, 'what was the question again?'

Hawke huffed and recapped the last few minutes while Anders quickly retied his hair. He tried his best not to look at Fenris directly. However out of the corner of his eye he noted that the other's gaze was glued to the table top looking utterly mortified.

xXx

_Today_

Anders was still not sure why he was doing this, Justice certainly thought it was a bad idea, but he just had to know. Maker knew the last thing he might see today would be a glowing fist reaching for his heart but it was too late to turn back.

'Here goes nothing,' Anders mumbled to himself before he let himself into Fenris' mansion.


	3. Chapter 3

_Red-gold hair gliding through his fingers like silk. Warm eyes smiling at him from between unruly bangs. He felt happy. So happy. So warm. Loved._

First light crept through the windows of his dilapidated mansion when Fenris forced his eyes open. The temptation to stick his head under the pillow and slip back into sleep in search of the dream was overwhelming but of course some fool decided now was a good time to come knocking on his front door. He cursed roundly in Arcanum and dragged his naked body out of bed.

Fenris reached for his legging when he caught sight of his reflection in a shard of broken mirror propped up against the wall. The lyrium in his skin stood in stark contrast to his olive skin.

_A hand brushed over his chest down his stomach, dipping under the waistband of his breeches. Touching. Touching without pain. Lips chasing his in a heated kiss. His whole vision filled with soft golden hair._

The knocking on his door grew more insistent forcing Fenris to focus on the present. Grumbling, he yanked on his leggings and grabbed his sword to answer the door.

xXx

'Morning. I have work for you.' Hawke greeted him with her usual straight to the point demeanour while she walked past him into the mansion.

'Fine. But you owe me breakfast,' was all Fenris said. He knew whatever job Hawke had lined up would pay well which was why he never asked any questions. They had that sort of relationship. It worked for them.

Hawke explained a few details while Fenris finished dressing. It didn't bother him since her only interest in his body was purely professional and she had seen him in various states of undress over the years anyway. You couldn't get around it when you travelled and fought side by side for days sometimes weeks. More often then not they had to help patch each other up, especially when Hawke's favourite healer had burned all his mana.

'Is the abomination coming too?' Fenris asked, trying to sound casual. He sincerely hoped the answer would be a sound no.

Hawke gave him a hard stare. She looked like she wanted to dismiss his question but shut her mouth again, obviously thinking it over. 'Hn. You have a point. If the rumours are true and Fell Orden's brother is a blood mage as well we could use Anders' help. Good thinking.'

'That's not...,' _what I meant_, Fenris finished silently. There was no point in arguing with the Champion once she had made up her mind, and there was also no point in telling her that he wasn't keen on seeing the mage any time soon albeit for different reasons than his adversity to magic or the apostate's constant yammering. But there was no escaping it now. As horrible as being a slave had been it had taught Fenris one useful skill: shut out all else and focus on the task at hand.

He fastened the last buckle on his gauntlet when Hawke remarked, 'You are done. Let's go see Varric first.'

xXx

After they had made their way from his mansion to the 'Hanged Man,' Fenris stopped briefly at the bar to enquire what they had on offer for breakfast but he lost his appetite after one look at the quite frankly very suspicious looking sausages.

'Don't grumble at me later, you have had your chance,' was all Hawke had to say before she walked up the stairs to Varric's private quarters.

It turned out that despite the hour Varric already had an early visitor or maybe a late visitor, all things were possible at the dwarf's chosen home. Fenris had been too distracted by his rumbling stomach, so he only noticed who it was when the other said, 'I see you've got company. I'll see you later.'

'No stay. I think I could use you,' Hawke grabbed the mage's biceps through his coat as he tried to brush past. The abomination gave her an irritated look. 'I mean, use your skills,' she corrected hastily and let him go with a gentle shove towards one of the empty chairs.

For a second it looked like he would bolt and part of Fenris wished he would but after a few tense seconds the mage simply slumped into the offered chair and pouted when Hawke flashed him her 'I knew you would see reason' grin.

'Varric, we have word that Mort Orden is hiding near Smugglers' Cut,' Hawke began to explain but the elf tuned her out. Another useful skill you learned as a slave. He feigned attention but his focus was reserved for the blond mage who didn't even pretend to listen.

Quite frankly, Fenris was at a loss why of all people Anders had been the one who had triggered that particular sliver of his memory. For that was what the dream undoubtedly was. It was too vivid, too real. Fenris could feel the softness of the hair and the warmth of his lost lover's lips when he closed his eyes and concentrated but there was no real face to match the individual features and no name. Just beautiful warm eyes, an easy smile and strands of red-blond hair.

Fenris had encountered dozens of people, men and women, who matched that description but it had been the mage who had made him remember that he was once loved. It made him hate Anders all over again because being alone was hard but knowing that he had lost so much more was torturous.

Maybe if he could get a different angle Fenris would be able to figure out why it had been him? Had his lover been a man? While he pondered those questions he slowly made his way to the other side of the table from the mage still feigning interest in Hawke and Varric's exchange.

The mage was shifting around in his seat glaring fireballs at Fenris probably because he had no idea he was being watched in return. It still didn't make any sense to him. Why the abomination? Yes, he had a handsome face and a nice body and an absolutely infuriating personality to go with the package. He did however have the same eyes, the same smile and the same beautiful red-golden hair which he was untying just this very moment.

Anders' hands were gliding through it in a gesture that looked so very familiar. Fenris let out a tiny gasp when the other man threw his head back, presenting his throat. He wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into the exposed flesh, wanted to tear into the mage and claim him. A wave of possessive lust flooded through him so strongly he barely noticed that Anders was slowly deliberately looking at him. His hair framing his face like it had on that first day on the beach.

_Long legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into the other's heat. Kissing him so desperately._

Something was trying to break through. A word, a name?

_Magister!_

'What do you think, Blondie?' Varric's voice broke the connection. Anders actually let out a yelp of surprise but Fenris didn't really pay it any attention. He was vaguely aware that the conversation kept going around him but none of it mattered. After weeks of wondering he finally had his answer and like so many other things in his life it was utterly cruel.


	4. Chapter 4

Anders had tried the front door and found it unlocked. For a paranoid ex-slave, the broody elf was very lax with his security. Anyone could march in here.

The mage closed the door behind him with a soft thud before he took a few hesitant steps into the darkness. Something crunched under Anders' feet as he made his way towards the main hall. Glass?

Bright blue light almost blinded him as he was about to cross over the threshold. For a split second Anders feared an Arcane Horror had appeared, possessing one of the neglected corpses that Fenris left rotting around the house. It had happened before. But before the mage could even summon Rock Armour to defend himself a grip like a vice wrapped around his throat and hauled him into and across the large room.

Light streamed through an open door from the upper floor, illuminating the skid marks Anders had left in the dusty floor. Out of reflex he twisted his upper body, staff ready and summoned Winter's Grasp to freeze his attacker in place. He missed.

No, not missed. The creature of blue light phased right through the ice, solidifying in front of Anders' eyes.

'FENRIS! IT'S ME!'

'Yes, I know!' The elf growled back, grabbing the mage by his coat and dragging him to his feet before he gave him a rough shove. The edge of the stone bannister dug painfully into Anders' kidney but at least it prevented him from landing on his arse.

'Maker's breath, you scared me shitless!' Anders gasped.

'Arrogant fool, you broke into my house. You are lucky that Hawke considers you too useful to discard – yet. Now get out!' Fenris snarled at the intruder. Without waiting whether Anders acquiesced his request he walked back up the stairs without so much as another glance at the other man.

Anders retort, 'But I just got here,' was drowned out by the upstairs door banging shut, leaving the mage in the dark again.

xXx

_Magister_

The man in his memory, the man who was like Anders and not Anders, the first person who had ever made him feel cherished for who he was and not what he was, that man had been a mage. Fenris felt it in his very bones that it was nothing but the truth. He couldn't remember much beyond that and it seemed pointless to try.

He felt cheated by his own past. Magic had tainted everything, coloured his life in harsh hues of lyrium and blood and pain. How could he reconcile this with the fact that he had ever loved a mage? And in return how could his lover have allowed Danarius to violate his skin and soul like he had?

Although Tevinter magisters enslaved their own kind, Fenris didn't get the feeling the other had been a slave as well. How much time had passed between his memory and the ritual that had branded the lyrium into his flesh? Had his lover betrayed him, used and discarded him like a toy that had lost its appeal? Or had he fought for him and lost?

He needed to stop! Too many unanswered questions and no matter how much he tried he always ended up with the fact that he had loved someone who embodied everything he hated and that it didn't matter in the end because he was here now, free from his chains but utterly alone.

Fenris had tried to drown the memory in vintages but when that plan had failed miserably, he had gone for bathing his sadness. He had just opened his third bottle when he heard the crunching of glass under worn boots even through the haze of his wine-soaked mind.

Hawke had once asked what he did with all the smashed up bottles as he worked himself methodically through his former master's wine cellar. He had explained that apart from giving him something to smash the shards also made an excellent warning system. She had made a point of knocking ever since.

Apparently she hadn't shared that bit of information with the abomination though. Fenris recognised him even in the dim light that spilled out of his room behind him.

If he was here that could only mean one thing and Fenris was not going to have that conversation, ever!

xXx

After he had made his point, hopefully scaring the other enough to take the hint and leave, he returned to his room and the open bottle of red.

He should have known better.

Before Fenris even got a taste of the wine, Anders walked into the room. 'I think we need to talk!'

Fenris retort died in his throat. Sylvan green searched for amber eyes, half hidden behind bangs of red-gold hair.


	5. Chapter 5

'I knew it,' Anders broke the silence with a self-satisfied smirk. He deliberately brushed his hair out of his eyes tugging a few strands behind his ear. The expression on the elf's face was priceless. Serah-I-hate-everything-magic had the hots for blonds. And not any blond. This blond. The blond _mage_. Anders wanted to crow. It tasted like victory to see the haughty bastard completely flustered. It felt even better to see all that heat directed at him. He had almost forgotten what it was like to be desired, and it felt so damn good.

xXx

Until a few weeks ago Fenris had never even imagined that he had ever had a lover and never entertained the idea of pursuing one. The memory of the lyrium being carved into his flesh turned any physical contact into agony. A caress or a slap, it was all the same in different measure: pain. A pain that denied him the most basic intimacy and had robbed him of his memory creating a void that he filled with the only emotion he seemed to know: hate.

Pain and hate – a vicious cycle that he had only ever escaped for the first time when red-gold hair flying in a gentle breeze had opened a door to his past when he must have known what it was like to love, to touch and be loved. It was shameful but he would give anything to have this part of himself back.

And Anders knew, he knew and he dangled himself in front of Fenris like a toy ready to snatch it out of reach should he make a grab for it, taunting, teasing, mocking.

Every instinct in Fenris screamed to punish the mage for his insolence. Rush at him and rip his heart out and rid the world of another abomination. It hurt to just look at the man. Everything about Anders, his posture, the way he smiled, his fucking hair, reminded him of how it felt to be loved and it stung. Undoubtedly the mage thought Fenris was hopelessly infatuated with his looks and tested the waters of how he could use it to his advantage. Fool!

xXx

Subtly Anders had readied a spell under his breath, if necessary he could stun the bastard long enough to make it to the door. He had expected an attack, had expected the volatile temperament he knew so well to explode in his face. Come to think of it, approaching a vicious killer in his own home was not the smartest thing Anders had ever done. In the back of his mind Justice concurred.

But Fenris was still calm. Anders watched him carefully setting the bottle he was holding in front of the fireplace before he slowly got up, never breaking eye contact. The smirk slipped off the mage's face when Fenris moved towards him like his namesake stalked his prey. The elf was many things, a warrior and a gigantic pain in the arse came to mind but right now Anders had to acknowledge that he was also drop-dead gorgeous!

When Fenris moved into his personal space and did not stop Anders had to force himself not to flinch. The elf was touching him. Fenris did not touch. Never. The only time anyone was allowed this close was for healing purposes and even then he had to use magic from as much a distance as possible. So far Hawke was the only one who had ever been allowed to patch the warrior up when Anders was too knackered to help.

Lyrium marked hands came around his neck, gliding into hair until they were cradling the back of Anders' skull. Maker, it had been so long since anyone had touched him like this, he wanted to purr. If this was a dream he would smite whoever woke him up from it with a lightning bolt, even Fenris, especially Fenris. He had suspected that the man was attracted to him but he hadn't expected the elf to _act_ on it.

xXx

Fenris suppressed a hiss when his hands made contact with the mage's skin. One of the cardinal rules of warfare was to keep your foes on their toes and off balance. The abomination had probably expected an attack and readied himself for one. Better to slip past his defences before showing him his place.

xXx

'So what is it exactly you think you know?' Fenris asked, his voice deep and seductive, sending fuck-me signals to the blond's cock.

At first Anders had been too stunned to react when the other had started to touch him but that sinful voice so close to his ear spurred him into action. He raised his arms to draw the elf closer against him. What had Isabela called him? Lanky. Yes, lanky he was. Lanky and solid muscle that made Anders sorry his coat was providing so much padding between them.

'Mmmh. I knew you...,' Anders began to answer the question but before he could finish the sentence Fenris' hands had left his hair only to grab his wrists, giving them a painful twist that made him yelp in pain before he was spun face first into the stone wall.

'You know nothing!' Fenris snarled, one hand still twisting his wrist, pinning him in place, the other fisting in his hair, pulling so hard it brought tears to Anders' eyes. 'Why are you here, mage?'

'Let go, you bastard!' Anders spat back between clenched teeth. If anything it made Fenris pull even harder.

'I will not repeat myself, answer the question!'

To the Void with that. '...ouch...'

'Mage.'

'I wanted to see whether I was right about you and my hair...please leave it where it is... and I wanted you to look at me like that again.'

'Like what?'

'...like you want me!' Anders admitted.

For several moments nothing happened before Fenris suddenly released the hold on his hair and wrist, allowing Anders to turn and with a groan slide down the wall to sit on the floor. The elf looked at him with an unreadable expression. 'You are delusional. I do not want you,' he finally said before he turned his back on Anders.

'Oh yes, you do,' Anders snapped back defiantly, watching with satisfaction how the elf's shoulders tensed under his accusation. His scalp still stung where Fenris had tried his best to rip his hair out.

The elf rounded on him, all snarling rage. For a second Anders was sure he was going to get punched but instead he was boldly dragged onto his feet and unceremoniously shoved into the direction of the door. 'Keep your fantasies to yourself. Never come into my house again. And get out!'

Anders stared at the other man as he walked back to the fireplace to resume his drinking no doubt as if this little episode hadn't happened. If that arrogant son of a bitch of an elf thought Anders would leave it at that, he was dead wrong.

'Never taunt a mage!'


	6. Chapter 6

The air crackled with the familiar sound of lighting summoned by magic. The wine had dulled his reflexes somewhat but he still managed to avoid the attack by throwing himself to the side, landing awkwardly behind his bed. His elbow and knee would be bruised in the morning.

The lightning bolt hit the broken mirror instead, sending myriads of shards flying. When Fenris raised his head to glower at his attacker over the edge of his mattress, he noticed with grim satisfaction that the apostate had several cuts on his hands and a particular nasty gash across his nose and cheek. Blood was covering almost the entire left side of his face but he was already healing himself. Too bad, 'put in your place' was a good look on the mage.

'You reap what you sow,' Fenris said with a chuckle in his voice as he got up and approached his uninvited guest.

Anders shot him a glare in response. Strands of his hair had gotten stuck to the blood as if he had a bizarre facial tattoo to match Fenris' own lyrium markings.

Amber and blood and red-gold hair falling... No, he didn't want to remember that! But it was already coming.

_Fenris looked into amber coloured eyes that stared at him in disbelieve and something else that he had never seen before. Later he would learn to recognise it as betrayal by someone you thought was a friend. _

xXx_  
><em>

That hadn't gone according to plan.

Anders frowned at his hands and only realised the cuts on his face when blood dripped onto his coat sleeve. He touched the left side of his face and swore. It was vain perhaps to summon healing magic for such minor injuries but he told himself he didn't want to risk infection. Here was one bloody elf who had apparently never even heard of house cleaning.

Fenris had ducked behind his bed and avoided the worst of the blast. Lucky bastard.

'You reap what you sow,' the other's voice rumbled with dark amusement that made Anders want to zap him all over again but given his own luck tonight he settled for a glare instead.

When his amber met sylvan green Fenris stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes became huge and unfocused, almost panicked. Anders watched the other's mouth open in what looked like a silent scream. The markings on Fenris' skin seemed to pulse with the waves of agony that crossed his features.

The healer felt his own wave of anxiety at the display. Fenris was clearly in some kind of pain and Anders instinctively wanted to help but also because the elf was a viscous killer who at the moment was not in control of his own strength and he had shed enough blood for one evening.

'What's going on? Are you hurt?' Anders asked not daring to get any closer.

'You... That did not happen... I would never...,' Fenris stuttered in Arcanum, his eyes still huge and unfocused but the expression was so unguarded and pained it was enough for the mage to lower his defence.

A mistake, because the elf must have read his body language and used the opportunity to charge at him. For the third time this night Anders back made painful contact with the stone walls. And for the second time he had his arms full of Fenris.

But before Anders could say, 'Oh, I'm not falling for that again,' Fenris' lips found his in a bruising kiss.


	7. Chapter 7

A part of Anders knew that he should put a stop to this. The elf was clearly not himself but, Maker, it felt so good to be touched like this again. Fenris' fingers kept combing through his hair, cradling his head as a devoured Anders' mouth. That lanky body pressed so close he could feel the other's hard cock against his hip. The mage shifted his leg so his thigh was in between the elf's legs, giving Fenris something to thrust against and Anders was rewarded with a throaty moan for his efforts.

He shouldn't be doing this. He really shouldn't be doing this. But it became harder and harder to do the honourable thing when all of Anders screamed to take what was offered and run with it.

Fenris kept nipping, licking his way over the mage's chin and down to find that sensitive spot underneath the ear that made Anders moan like a whore. Lyrium covered hands pulled his hair, baring Anders' throat and Fenris sank his teeth into the exposed flesh. The possessive gesture went straight to the mage's cock. Andraste's arse, he was wearing too much clothing. He wanted to be naked. Now.

It had been too long. Too lonely. Despite Justice reassurance that they would be together forever, Anders had never felt lonelier in his life. Even his year in solitary confinement paled in comparison to the feeling of being alone in a crowd day in and day out. Forced to give himself completely but never being able to pause and receive in return. No self-indulgence. No attachments. Over the years he had resigned to the fact that he had become nothing but a tool serving a higher purpose. Part of him believed it was punishment for his selfish lifestyle until he had opened his soul to the Fade spirit. He had almost forgotten how good, how right it could feel to get lost in another person even if it was just for a few hours.

His heavy coat landed on the floor with a thud. The soft sound seemed to have startled the elf out of his trance because his hands left Anders' hair and Fenris lifted his head to look into amber coloured eyes. Oh, but he was beautiful. Lips flush and red from kissing, a crimson blush covering his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose. Sylvan green eyes huge and shimmering with lust and raw hunger, hunger for him.

The elf stepped back and for a second Anders thought Fenris would stop and tell him to go, snatch away this wonderful gift. But that was evidently not the case. Almost feverish the warrior began to rip at his own clothes, tossing them away until he stood, light from the fireplace dancing across his lyrium adorned skin, naked and gorgeous and aroused. Anders drank in the sight. How was a red-blooded man supposed to resist this?

There was no answer. No objection. There was just Anders' lust and want and need, and to the Void with all else!

xXx

_'You are here and if you are here it cannot have happened. It was a dream, a bad dream, a nightmare born from fear, fear of losing you forever. I need you. I need your touch, your stupid grin and your infuriating cockiness. I don't care what you are, what we are, you are mine!'_

Memory and thought blended together, mingled until they were indistinguishable from each other. The warrior felt possessive lust surge through his body and soul. He kissed the other man over and over as if they had been separated for years and had to make up for lost time. It felt so good, so right. Part of him wondered why he had expected to feel pain when they touched but the thought scattered when his lover shifted his leg, giving him something to grind his throbbing cock against.

_'Can you feel what you do to me, how much I want you?'_

The elf licked a path down to kiss his lover's neck, gripping that beautiful red-golden hair, forcing the other to submit to him.

_'Now show me that you are mine!'_

The man in his arms moaned and exposed his neck in surrender. But it was not enough, still not enough. He needed to touch, to feel his skin, he needed everything.

It took every ounce of willpower to step back. He ripped at his clothes, tearing them off, watching amber eyes watching him, wanting him. For a split second Fenris realised that this was madness that the mage was not...

Before he could finish the thought his lover approached him bare chested, laces of his breeches undone, his hard cock straining against the thin fabric. 'How do you want me?'

_'How do you want me, Leto?'_

Fenris was gone and all that was left was the want and the need to reclaim what was his.

He surged forward, pulling his lover against his naked flesh. They kissed hungrily, stumbling towards the bed, shards crunching under foot but they were too distracted to care. Boots and breeches landed on the floor next to the bed.

The warrior cried out when his lover took him into his mouth, working his cock with clever lips and tongue, slicking him with spit and he needed him to stop or it would be over too soon. His hand fisted in blond locks forcing the mage to let go. His lover looked at him, amber eyes burning with lust between unruly bangs and that vexing knowing smirk, knowing how much he affected Fenris that only he got to see the elf like this, unguarded and wanton.

Maybe it was time to remind the mage that the same was true for him. Fenris didn't let go of his lover's hair until they were eye to eye and cock to cock.

'On your stomach,' he commanded in a low growl against pouty lips. 'So demanding,' the other smiled against his cheek but he did as he was told. Fenris rolled over to settle between his lover's spread legs, drawing the palms of his hands up over his thighs, spreading him open. The mage buried his head in the pillows trying to stifle a moan. That wouldn't do. 'I want to hear you!'

Fenris felt his control slipping again when the blond's wanton cry bounced of the walls as Fenris' tongue pushed inside him. Each flick dragged the most fantastic sounds from the mage's throat. It had to be soon or never.

'I can't wait any longer,' Fenris growled as the only warning before he pressed his cock wet with spit and pre-cum against his lover's entrance. The mage twisted his head to give him a look that was all the permission he needed before he pressed forward until he was completely inside that tight heat.

They moved together, never wanting it to end. Fenris fisted his hand into red-gold hair again forcing his lover up and against him, telling him how good he felt, how much he wanted him, emphasizing each sentence with a thrust of his hips, driving them closer and closer to the edge until the mage threw his head back against Fenris' shoulder, muscles tightening around the elf's cock as he came. It was the end of him as well. Fenris saw blue-white light as he followed, shouting his lover's name like the magical password to the forbidden cave, and for one brief moment it all came back before darkness claimed him again.


	8. Chapter 8

It was quiet. That was the first thing Anders noticed.

Hightown was still asleep despite the fact that the light told him it was two hours past sunrise. Apparently, the high and mighty could afford to sleep in.  
>'Them and the thoroughly shagged.' Anders chuckled, hand reaching out to touch nothing. Figured.<p>

There was a depression in the bed where Fenris must have slept but it was already cold.

Memories of last night flooded Anders' mind and despite the sobering realisation what they had done to each other, he couldn't find it in him to feel shame or regret. It had been good. Really good. Given the choice he would do it again in a heartbeat.

And it wasn't just the great sex. It was _quiet_!

'Lyrium, it must be the lyrium in his skin. Maker, what would he say if I told him that all it takes to keep a spirit possessing a host in check is for him to shag them senseless?' Anders laughed at his own thought until tears streamed down his face.

When he had calmed down he lay naked on top of the rumpled covers staring at the shadows on the ceiling. He would have to think about this more seriously. The implications were potentially significant but Anders couldn't get his head around this now. What he needed to do first was to get out of this bed that smelled like sex and Fenris. It was making him horny all over again and sadly he had more pressing matters to deal with.

He dressed slowly wincing slightly as he bent over to reach for his breeches. Ah, Fenris had been passionate in his lovemaking, or maybe he was just no longer used to being taken in that way whichever he was a little sore and too proud to use healing magic on his arse. Well, that and part of him liked the reminder that he had been with another man. He could already feel Justice disapproval on the edge of his consciousness but it was faint, he could ignore it for now. Just a little longer.

When he had dressed he was forced to choose between leaving quietly – his old self would have preferred that option, or to go and look for Fenris to make sure he was okay – to his surprise he actually cared. Anders knew that from a certain point of view what he had done or let happen last night could be seen as taking advantage of whatever madness had come over Fenris but since it was his arse that was throbbing this morning he decided to call it even. Still, the broody elf was probably, well, brooding dark thoughts somewhere.

With a sigh, Anders grabbed his staff and went to look for the wine cellar.

xXx

_'Foolfoolfoolfool...fool..._

_What have I done?'_

xXx_  
><em>

On his way through the mansion Anders discovered that the so-called rotting corpses Varric kept telling him about were actually scarecrows. Apparently, Fenris had a sense of humour after all. Anders chided himself for having believed the dwarf in the first place. Really, who would leave corpses lying around for years and years?

As expected the mage found the warrior sitting on the floor in the wine cellar, clad only in his leggings. He had his head buried in his folded arms.

Anders had seen it before. When you got into a tight spot in the Deep Roads, trapped, be it a cave in or too many injured to go against a majority force of darkspawn, eventually even the strongest gave in to that feeling of utter defeat if only for a few hours. The elf had that look about him now.

'Are you still here?' Fenris asked without looking at him, sounding irritated and tired.

The familiar surly tone was equally reassuring and infuriating and made Anders wonder why he had bothered. Out loud he said, 'That's a "no" on breakfast I take it?'

Fenris looked up. His eyes were red-rimmed as if he hadn't slept at all or as if...

Anders swallowed dry. Maker curse his soft heart thrice over! 'Are you all right?' He asked softly.

The elf snorted, his lips curling into a disgusted snarl. 'Let's get this over with.' Anders watched Fenris get up from the floor and lean against the cold cellar wall. Goosebumps covered the elf's arms and bare chest, turning the nipples into hard pebbles but Fenris didn't seem to care or notice. Anders however found it very distracting.

The warrior's scowl deepened as he noticed Anders staring longingly at his chest. 'Stop leering!'

'But it's so there!' Anders wanted to say and thought better of it.

'Mage, what happened last night was madness. I...can't believe I am doing this but for what it's worth I am sorry.'

That was so not what Anders had expected. He had taken advantage of the situation and the elf was apologising?

'Um, I... you don't need to apologise. It was good,' Anders replied and when Fenris stared at him in utter disbelieve he added, 'really good.'

Why was the mage still here? How could he even say...?

The man was either oblivious to the situation or he didn't care. Maker forgive him, it still hurt to look at him. No, in a way it hurt even more because shame and guilt had taken the place of hate after last night. Fenris wished he could blame it on the mage's resemblance to _him_ but it had been Fenris' weakness that had allowed it to happen in the first place. He had let his desire take control over his sanity and in a fashion taken back what he so desperately wanted. But he had gotten more than what he had bargained for and the truth tasted like ashes in his mouth.

'You are not listening! I do not want you and I did not want you last night. I... I wasn't myself.'

'So you admit that something is wrong. I know you won't accept my help but I think I deserve an explanation since I won't be able to sit for the next few days,' Anders snapped, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

'Are you... did I hurt you?' Fenris asked seriously horrified at the thought that he had forced himself on the mage. Nobody deserved that, not even an abomination.

He shouldn't have worried because Anders smirked back immediately. 'No, you didn't. I meant it when I said it was...'

'Good, I heard you, spare me...'

'Really good!' Fenris could hear the exclamation mark.

'Mage, shut up! It shouldn't have happened. It wasn't... I _used_ you!' Fenris rubbed his eyes in a futile attempt to make it all go away. When he looked up, Anders stood right in front of him. Thankfully, the abomination didn't try to touch him although the elf could tell that he wanted to and to his further dismay and shame part of him wanted Anders to just do it. How much further could he fall?

'Then answer me one question, you owe me that at least.'

Fenris couldn't find the strength in him to fight any more. 'Go on.'

'Who is Lucifer?'

xXx

_'My name is Lucifer. I'm your master's new apprentice.' The blond mage smirked. Leto felt his bravado slip away as he lowered his head. 'Please forgive me, I had no idea. I will accept any punishment for my disgusting behaviour.'_

_'Oh no, that won't do,' Lucifer huffed, 'we had such a good time and now this. I'm still the same guy.'_

_xXx  
><em>

_'You really don't have the temperament for a slave,' Lucifer remarked, sounding quite amused._

_'So I have been told,' Leto grumbled back but he kept his scowl fixed onto his bare toes._

_The surprising sound of rich laughter made him look up after all. Lucifer's soft amber eyes twinkled with mirth while the setting sun painted his blond hair in shades of gold and red. The future magister's whole body was shaking with laughter which made Leto even angrier with the man but the angrier he became the more the other seemed to dissolve into fits of more laughter until he almost fell off the wall._

_'Will you cut it out already!' Leto finally snapped._

_Lucifer stopped immediately looking at Leto with the most grave expression he had ever seen on the man._

_For all of three seconds._

_'Don't ever change,' Lucifer said before his lips found Leto's in a passionate kiss._

_xXx  
><em>

_'You are free and we can be together.'_

_'I cannot come with you. Mother and Varania, I can't bear the thought of them being still here while you and I are …'_

_'You and I are what? Fucking our brains out? Because that's exactly what I intend to do.' Lucifer replied hotly but as always his anger died down as fast as it flared. 'Leto please, don't do this. Do __you have any idea what this costs me?'_

_'Ah, so I am free as long as I am yours? Your very own elven fuck-toy is that it? Is that what I am to you?'_

_'That's not fair! You know you are not,' Lucifer replied quietly, amber eyes betraying how deep Leto's words had cut._

_'Forgive me, love,' the elf asked as he quickly closed his arms around his lover, holding him in a tight embrace. 'We will find another way.'_

_xXx  
><em>

_'Then this tourney is our best chance. I can win freedom for my family and I will gain more power than any slave as ever held. Trust me, we will be together.'_

_'And you will be Danarius' pet!' Lucifer spat the name as if it was poison._

_'Yes, but pets turn on their masters all the time,' Leto replied with a feral grin._

_xXx  
><em>

_The world was made of pain. White hot pain and darkness until a cold gentle voice brought him light and a purpose._

_'Get up my little wolf.'_

_'What am I?'_

_'You are Fenris and I am your master. You exist to serve me. Do you understand?'_

_'Yes, master.'_

_xXx  
><em>

_'Leto, I lo...'_

_The glowing fist met no resistance, piercing cloth and flesh until it found the beating muscle in the __mage's chest. It felt strong but he was stronger._

_Fenris looked into amber coloured eyes that stared at him in disbelieve and something else that he had never seen before. Later he would learn to recognise it as betrayal by someone you thought was a friend, a lover._

_When the warm blood of the beautiful stranger ran over his gauntlet and arm, Danarius' voice praised him, 'Well done, my little wolf. Now come along.' And he went without looking back._

_His past was gone and all that remained was a magister's weapon who slept in the dark on a leash chained to the foot of his master's bed._

_Until the wolf slipped his chain and watched another mage's red-gold hair fly in the breeze on a beach on the Wounded Coast near Kirkwall. _

xXx_  
><em>

'Fenris, who is Lucifer?' Anders asked again when the elf hadn't answered.

Fenris wasn't sure how the mage knew the name. He must have said something last night. He couldn't remember any more. The memories, they had come back in a rush, all of them only to slip from his grasp once more with the dawn of the new day. All except one.

Fenris closed his eyes . 'He was my first kill.'

xXx

Anders stared at the elf for a long time. It didn't take much to put two and two together,

'Danarius ordered you to kill your lover, and you ...did it.' It was a statement not a question.

'I was a slave and I had no idea who he was,' Fenris snarled back. He fixed Anders with a glare but it had no real venom in it, just pain and unshed tears.

'I know,' Anders raised a hand in defence and almost, almost reached out to touch Fenris but the elf jerked his body to the side to avoid any physical contact and proceeded to walk toward the exit.

'Fenris,' the healer called after him. 'Lucifer was a mage, wasn't he?'

The elf kept his back to him as he stood under the arch of the door. 'He was,' Fenris replied before he vanished into the darkness of the stairs.

**The End**


End file.
